


Goodbye My Darling

by Toryb



Series: Dear Angel [5]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Betty Cooper-centric, Dark!Jughead, F/M, I somehow find a way to increase the level of "fucked up", Sociopath!Jughead, a little violence, no "graphic" descriptions of violence but, serial killer!jughead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 12:26:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12653514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toryb/pseuds/Toryb
Summary: It seems all too familiar. A letter asking her to make a choice.





	Goodbye My Darling

**Author's Note:**

> You know how I said last chapter was the highest fucked up it could get? I lied.
> 
> This is the second to last part of this series! The last one will be posted probably within two days so be on the lookout for that.
> 
> I'm so so grateful that you have all gone on this journey of depravity with me. This fic has genuinely been my cathartic release when I've been really depressed or anxious.
> 
> Find me on tumblr @tory-b

The days were hard to keep track of, blurring into one another at an alarming pace. The only concept of time was the healing cut on Betty’s thigh. A pretty red crown, carved into her flesh and marking her as property. Perhaps it should have bothered her more than it did but most days the raised pink flesh made her smile. Someone cared so much about her that they just hard to mark her. And it was none other than her ghost.

She had been an awfully bad brat when she’d first come to his home. Jughead had spent so long decorating it in just the way she liked and Betty, in her ignorance, had shunned him. It seemed so silly now, looking back on her decisions, that she had denied a man who loved her more than the stars.

After that night, she was much more well behaved. Fairytales had always been some of Betty’s favorite growing up, and now she lived her very own Beauty and the Beast. Most days her love kept to his study, crafting poetic words that made her heart flutter. He made time for her at night. Bundled up together on the couch they would flip through a plethora of old films, his fingers always gently tracing along the marks he’d made. The black and white pictures were nothing more than ambiance for their frantic love making. Everywhere he could take her he would.

Her heart opened up completely to him at last. Recounting stories of her childhood to help him feel at ease. Life had never been kind to her either. A mother who expected too much, pushed her to a pinnacle of perfection she could never even hope to reach. He traced the wounds on her hands, placing delicate kisses along every mark.

Jughead was always so gentle with her. It was as though her body was made of porcelain and he was terrified that at any moment he would drop and shatter her. But beneath the surface the hunger lurked. The demons inside of him clawed and howled for a relief she could not provide. Those deep blue eyes were an ocean, and she could see straight down to the turbulent depths below, where the darkness clung to his soul.

Broken flesh, carpets stained red, screams muffled to silence as a light was snuffed out. Her Apollo craved to plunge himself into the depths of his art again. As his muse, how could she possibly deny him of this.

When Betty had spoken to him about the war she witnessed in his soul, and her acceptance of it, the words he so often wound together unraveled on his tongue. Primal instincts spoke louder now. As nothing more but a thank you tumbled from his lips, he fucked her into the couch. This was not the love making of Jughead Jones, but the whirlwind ruining of her Ghost. They collapsed on her bed together, a mass of limbs as the bundle of nerves between her thighs ached.

The next morning, he left with a promise to return once his work was done. For three days her heart ached, lost and waiting for her love. The phone did to ring. The television barely penetrated the silence. Only the howling of the wind was her company. On the fifth day, the bell rang.

Sprinting to the door, Betty’s heart fell when all she found was a box on the steps, no doubt left by the postman now driving away. The emptiness began to tingle at her nerves again, until she saw the mailing address: _Angel._

Frantically, she cut apart the tape of the box. A smile graced her features when she saw a pretty wrapped package and a letter tucked into the pink curled strings. Pink was her favorite color. Her thoughtful Jughead.

The package didn’t seem to weigh much more than a few pounds. Betty shook the contents to try and guess, but heard nothing but an odd squishing thud. She pulled the letter out first, pealing back the envelope with excitement. It had been so long since he’d written to her. She missed the intimacy of it.

            _Dear Angel,_

_I know my absence from you these last few days must have been hard on your delicate well-being, but there were many things that needed my attention. There was a horrible woman in the midst of the world, who I feared would one day come to harm you or tear us apart. Your heart may belong to only one person, my dear, and that must be me. I do not share my things well._

_She was an ugly woman who talked too much. So, I removed her tongue and the heart she so rarely would use. She was unmistakably cruel and the world will be far better off without her._

_I would ask you not to read the news or the papers. I know you’ll be far too gentle for such things. It was nasty business that your Ghost had to take care of. But my darling Angel’s curiosity is too insatiable for that. You hunger all the knowledge in the world and how can I deny you such when it is one of the things I love so about you._

_When you hear of my crimes, I am terrified you will leave me. I beg of you, if, after this, you can longer stand the sight of me, you must leave our home before I return home tomorrow. My heart will shatter without your presence, but to watch you go before my very eyes would surely kill me._

_If my world is truly where you wish to be, I will await with baited breath to hold you in my arms again at last. But if the depth of my depravity is too much, then I bid you a soft, loving, goodbye my darling._

_Sincerely,_

_Ghost_

A small silver necklace tumbled from the package: a pair of angel wings, encrusted with glittering diamonds. He truly was her Apollo, but she was Icarus, flying far too close to the sun, waiting to be burned.

Without opening it she knew what lay wrapped in the glittering pink packaging. The tell-tale heart of Alice Cooper.


End file.
